Damaged
by ExtraAuthor16
Summary: Bella, has been struggling with massive anxiety attacks since her father was arrested for child abuse. Will she find a way to swallow her fears when she meets suddenly meets her sould mate? Or crack under pressure and run? -Rated M for language   lemons.
1. Prologue

**Damaged.**

**I do not own these characters. They belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The plot and characters personalities were made up by me personally.**

**Furthermore, please enjoy and tell me what you think!**

**Summary: Bella, a quite teenager who was abused when she was younger, has been struggling with massive anxiety attacks since her father was arrested. Will she find a way to swallow her fears when she meets the boy of her dreams, who transferred to her highschool? Or will she crack under pressure of his "bad boy" reputation and make a run for it? Find out here! –Might be adding some Lemons later on… Rated M for language and possible lemons.**

_**Prologue-**_

My heart pounded with fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins as I heard his heavy footsteps nearing my room. I knew only too well what was to come. It had happened every other night, so what would make this one any different? Nothing, that's what.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I prepared myself, waiting for him to enter. After moments of agonizing silence, the bedroom door suddenly slammed open with such force, the knob left a dent the size of a baseball on the wall behind it. I couldn't bear to open my eyes to look him in the face at the moment, I was much too frightened to even breath right. My hands trembled, smelling all the alcohol radiating from his breath and off of his sweaty skin.

It felt like minutes when the seconds ticked by as he stood over me. I just sat there, shaking like a leaf in the cold winter wind when clammy fingers wound their way through my hair, gripping on and ripping me off the floor. My mouth hung open, unable to actually scream from so much pain. It felt like fire seething across my entire scalp. The droplets of tears earlier turned into full blast faucets when I felt his hot sticky breath against my left cheek.

"There you are." He laughed coldly, slurring his words together. "You disgust me, even more than your stupid fucking mother did. You're dead to me, bitch." And just like that, a stinging sensation swept across my other cheek, taking my breath away in one quick gust. "That's for hiding, asshole."

It took a little while to realize I hadn't begun to breathe again. I took in a few gulps of air quickly. "_Breathe Bella. Just breathe. It will be over soon. It has to be". _I chanted to myself. "_It was only just a slap. You've dealt with worse." _

But I was wrong, so wrong. It was to get a lot worse before the punishment would come to an end.

I cracked my eyes open to get a glimpse at my fate, only to find his arm reeled back, ready to send his waiting fist flying straight into my face. I flinched, pulling my head backwards as his knuckles connected with my cheekbone, sending shock waves through my skull. My mind went fuzzy, unable to focus on anything as white dots crowded my vision. Once my head cleared, I could finally feel slick blood gushing down the side of my face, and my head began to pound.

To much of my surprise, Charlie's blow had wound me back on the floor, with my face pressed against the cool wooden planks. "_You have to move. You have to get out of here, Bella!"_ I told myself, but the rest of me just didn't feel like listening. "_Get OUT of here! You're going to DIE if you don't!" _Finally, my fingers twitched at the command and I slowly rose to my knees. I didn't know how exactly I was going to make it out with Charlie looming over me like this, but I had to try. I had to hope there was a way. It was all I had left.

I took a quick glance up at his face right as he tipped his head back into an sickening dark laugh, closing his eyes momentarily. Anger started to bubble over my fear. I was not going to deal with this any longer. Enough was enough.

I darted out between his slightly spread legs as he stood laughing. My feet pounded down the hallway after leaving my room, though I could barely hear them over the drumming in my ears. Yet, I could still hear very clearly Charlie's drunken screeches. Nothing could drown that out.

"Get back here, you little shit!" his slurred words echoing through the house, so loud I thought it would surely start to quake. I kept on running, praying that God would take mercy on my pitiful soul.

I had almost reached the top of the stair case, my fingers just about to wrap around the top of the banister when Charlie rounded the corner. His eyes were murderous, staring directly at me. I screamed with so much intensity, I was sure the blood vessels in my neck had ruptured. I bounded down the steps, taking them two at a time. That mistake just barely cost my life.

Halfway down the steps, I was going so fast I missed my footing, slipped and tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Instinctively, I curled my arms around my head as a shield, though it really didn't do much to help me.

My body was slammed against the wall at the end of the staircase, leaving me completely limp and energy-drained. All I could do was lay there as Charlie stood over my aching body once more. Then the beating would start, becoming drastically worse as time went on. Thankfully, my mind allowed me to drift in and out of consciousness. The pain was subtle for now, and that's all that really mattered at that point. All I really asked was for death to come soon.

My silent pleads for darkness to take me, did nothing. What seemed like hours later, my eyes cracked open. Charlie was nowhere to be seen, but I knew I didn't have much time left. I could literally feel the blood seeping out of me. I was dying by the minute.

When my life had almost finished slipping away, a small spark of hope warmed inside my heart. Something in the distance, faint but there, gave me a reason to hold on. I heard sirens, people coming to my rescue, or so I had hoped. The minutes kept ticking by, and even though I could hear them coming closer, they weren't coming fast enough. My heart broke right then and there once I realized I would be long gone by the time they arrived. Thick tears rolled down my bloody and bruised cheeks as I thought to myself, "_This is it. I'm coming home now Mom." _ Mom. I guess that was one good thing that would come out of my death.

A small smile played at the corners of my mouth at the mere thought of my mother. So, with her on my mind, I let my heavy eyelids slide shut, red and blue lights flashing screaming behind them.


	2. Ch 1  Heavy Darkness

Damaged.

**I do not own these characters. They belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The plot and characters personalities were made up by me personally.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 1 – **_**Heavy Darkness**_

I woke with a start, my grungy t-shirt drenched in sweat and tears. Still breathing hard, I rubbed at my eyes roughly, trying hard to erase the images and the remains of those gaudy red and blue lights. I looked around the room, relieved to find the comforting, yet cluttered, walls of my room. I sighed, rolling over to look at my alarm clock on the wooden night stand. Angry red numbers blinked up at me in a mocking way. 7:30. I was going to be late once again.

Groaning to myself, I rolled out of bed having no more energy than the night before, maybe even less. I decided to skip the shower today. "_Why bother? No one really see's you anyway_," my brain muttered sulkily. It had a point. Walking towards the sink, ready to at least brush my teeth, I glanced up at my reflection in the mirror, shocked at how large the black and blue circles under my eyes had become. They were terrible, looking more like bruises than sleep deprivation. I frowned. Now I really looked horrid, but there wasn't enough time to do anything about it. School would be starting shortly. With a small sigh I quickly changed into some comfy jeans and an old t-shirt off of the already trashed floor. I made sure to grab my jacket that was draped over the bedpost, rolling down the sleeves to cover my mauled arms. I really didn't need all those people to see the wounds, both fresh and old.

"Isabella! You're going to be late, hurry up!" Renee called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Coming." I mumbled half-heartedly. I truly hated school. Not because of the way people treated me. Honestly, I didn't care if they acted like I was invisible. It's because of the way it makes me feel. Nervous and scared. Some people, like my aunt, call it claustrophobia. That may be true, considering I do have issues with being around huge crowds. It's different somehow though, sending me into panic attacks on a daily basis.

Some might think panic attacks are simple, a little freaking out here and there, but they are much worse than that. Usually, they make me physically sick, meaning a puking fest for the entire day. Others involve mildly harming myself, like clawing my arms, trying to do anything to take my attention away from the panic. Very unpleasant. What's the big deal though? It's only school. Believe me, I've been asking that question for a very long time, and even I don't have an answer yet. Renee, trying to help, signed me up for therapy after seeing my injuries one night. I'm pretty sure she was terrified, of me or for me, I really don't know. I couldn't blame her, I was too.

Yet, even with that therapist, I had a mild idea of why these anxiety attacks kept coming back, considering my past. My father, Charlie, was an alcoholic. When he was drunk, he became excessively violent towards my mother. One night he had punished her so harshly, she didn't survive. Without her to take his drunken rage out on, he turned to the only other person in the house. Me. The beatings weren't too horrible in the beginning. A couple bruises here and there, but they would continue to get worse as the years went on. He would come home even more wasted than the last night. It would be considered a frightening experience towards anyone, but especially for a ten year-old, alone with her abusive father who had previously killed her mother.

Though, the abuse would come to a sudden halt that very year. Hope had finally come knocking on my door. Literally. The officers that found me on that night visited me once I woke up in the hospital. They kept telling me how brave I was, over and over. Honestly, I didn't think I was all that brave. I felt weak and small, with no courage at all. I couldn't see why they told me these things when they obviously weren't true. I wanted to tell them they were wrong. None the less, after being in that hospital for a few weeks to make sure I was healthy enough to leave, the same officers shipped me out to the only living relatives I had left. All the way to a non-existent town named Forks in Washington, to Phil and Renee. Don't get me wrong, I love my aunt and uncle. I give them a lot of credit for raising one messed up kid, but I missed my mom, and what used to be our family. I missed home and my own school. I missed everything that use to be, and going to Forks made my already on going trauma, even worse. I wouldn't eat, let alone sleep, for weeks on end. The years went by in a blur, both dark and numb. It wasn't until my freshman year at Forks High School when I realized what had been hidden inside for so long. They were slow and subtle at first, but panic attacks none the less. As the months passed by, the attacks soon became terribly worse, to the point where I would skip classes for entire weeks, until Renee eventually found out, sending me straight back to that hell hole. Now, being a junior in high school, I was still stuck in this never ending cycle.

"Isabella! Now!" Renee yelled up, clearly losing her well-kept temper.

"Alright, alright." I sighed, grabbing my school bag and my sketch book off of the desk in the corner. Art was my only way of letting go of the world. My only way of escaping the pain for a little while, other than sleep. Of course, it was never quite long enough.

As I started to make my way down the small set of carpeted stairs, my fingers began to tremble, remembering what was in store for my classes today. A presentation. I swallowed nervously, my throat starting to close as the anxiety washed over me in waves.

Once we were both in Renee's old and worn out Honda, she peeled out of the drive-way, onto the road leading out of the little suburb. I wanted to tell her to slow down. Where was the fire? I felt my stomach begin to churn as the school grew closer by the mile. The drive always made me feel like crying. As if this was my last goodbye to the world and all my hope that had been there moments before, was now lost.

The brick face of the building loomed in the distance, causing my heart to sputter and beat rapidly. Renee rounded the ever familiar corner and slowly drove down the small path towards the main doors. _"So now she decides to drive slow_?" I thought bitterly.

Finally she stopped the car directly in front of the entrance way, tires screeching slightly. She looked over at me, giving a tiny smile to show some of her sympathy. She knew, for the most part, about what I was going through. She saw me coming home all those days, crying my eyes out.

Though she never would truly understand what I go through day after day. I didn't expect her to. I didn't expect anyone to, for that matter.

I didn't return the smile, for my face was stiff and set in a permanent grimace. Hopping out of the car quickly before she could say something, I slammed the passenger door shut, a little harder than I had originally meant to. Without a second glance, I started to walk towards the front doors of the school. It reminded me of when prisoners would walk towards their immanent deaths.

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously, hesitating at the solid doors as the cold December wind nipped at my exposed skin. "_You could always make a run for it," _my conscience whispered.

"No. I can't do that to Renee again," I sighed aloud to myself. Taking a sudden leap of faith, I hauled open the heavy metal doors and stepped inside. The bright lights of the school's hallways glinted off the faded green coloring of the lockers, nearly blinding me. I kept on trudging through the crowds of people while my shoes squeaked against dull white floors, the bell for first hour right at my heels.

After several attempts at trying to waste time, my feet ended up planted in front of the doorway leading to first hour, which was History. This was one of my worst subjects and today our teacher happened to schedule or presentations on World War II. Of course, my project was done, overly done really. Yet, the thought of standing in front of that class alone made my heart start its usual racing, trying desperately to escape my chest. To get away, and be anywhere but here.

Peeking inside, the first person that came into view was Victoria Daniels. Sensing my eyes on her, she turned her head. Once my gaze was caught, she sneered, her perfect red lips and bright hazel eyes sending daggers straight through me.

Victoria was one of the overly popular girls. Perfect height and weight with gorgeous red curly hair that hung in ringlets, cascading down her back. Every girl dreamed of being like her. Most boys at this school would practically drool at the mere mention of her name. They would fall to her feet if she asked them. Yet, she's vicious and cruel. Every year, she chooses to make someone's life a living hell. And for some reason, she has chosen me as her newly acquired victim this year.

I gulped and looked away. There was no way that I would every go into that room now. Not with her in there. The bell finally rang, shrill and loud, into my ear. Without stepping foot into the room, I turned and almost bolted down the long, plain hallway, almost running into a boy trying to get to his own class. I didn't really care; I just kept on going until I was safely hidden away at the back of the school, my breathing returning to normal. I sat down at a wooden table in the comforting corner, my back against the bare brick wall. Jacob and I decided to make this spot our own. It was where we would go to get away from it all, or just to chill during off hours, though I was using our hide out much more often than he.

Jacob Black was my best friend, my only friend really. He was always there for me. I still don't understand why he had ever chosen me to become his friend. We're complete opposites. I was at the very end of the food chain, and he at the very top. Jacob played varsity football, kept his straight A's and, not to mention, he was downright gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, we're the best of friends and that's all I ever wanted, but there was no denying his looks. His skin looked like shiny copper out in the sun, and he had the biggest brown eyes anyone could ever imagine. Yet, he had such prominent childlike features and his thick black hair framed his face; he didn't look 17 at all. He was absolutely stunning. Underneath the popular surface, deep down, Jake was a huge nerd. We would spend hours sitting on his floor playing video games or arguing over which super-villain caused the most destruction. He was also the only one who could truly put a smile on my face, and I was grateful for that fact. He was like a raft, holding me above the black waters that were trying to engulf me.

I waited a while for him, but it looked like he was attending his class today. Sighing, I pulled out my headphones, a pencil, and my sketchbook. I doodled endlessly for hours on end, getting completely lost in my music. I finally pulled myself away from my drawing and glanced up at the clock. 1:40. I frowned. All this time had passed and still no Jacob. I made a mental note to myself to call him once I got home, as I packed up my bag to head towards my last two classes for the day, which were Drawing and Gym.

Climbing the stairs while still thinking about Jacob, I hadn't noticed her coming up behind me. "Well, well, well. I fit isn't our little ditcher, Bella." Victoria's words sent chills down my spine. "Where'd you go this morning? Did you get too scared?" She laughed coldly, and mocking sympathy colored her words. I couldn't answer her. I didn't know what to say. I stood there like an idiot with a blank expression on my face. Victoria and her side kick, Lauren Mitchell, both let out high pitched cackles, almost doubling over. I could feel my face burning bright red. I was doomed.

"Leave her alone, Victoria," a voice called. I snapped out of my short daze, perking up at the sound. There he was. I smiled brightly as Jacob bounded up the stairs toward us, two at a time.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Black. We were going anyways. Come on, Lauren, let's go before we catch a disease from that," she grinned evilly, pointing towards me as she said it. I watched them walk off, both snickering.

"Bitches," Jacob sighed. "They never do learn." He looked over at me and smiled knowingly, causing me to crack up. "Can I walk you to class?"

I grinned. "Of course you can, Jake." We walked down the long hallway towards my class. "How come you weren't at our usual spot today?" I asked aloud. Being so short, I had to strain my neck just to look at his face.

"Busy," he shrugged. "I was actually in class, unlike you." He grinned, slugging me playfully in the arm.

I stuck my tongue out at him. He knew me much too well. My smile faded. "You know why," I mumbled, my face falling slightly.

"Yeah, I guess I do," he said sadly. He went quiet, walking silently. We both knew not to talk about my problems. We didn't talk the rest of the way, and once we reached the classroom door, we said our goodbyes, parting ways for now.

Before I knew it, my Art class was over, and I was now trudging back down the stairs for Gym. I groaned inwardly as I looked at the nets, the smell of sweat and waxed floors hit me like a bus while walking into the gymnasium. Volleyball.

Once inside the locker rooms, I changed slowly, dreading what was to come. The other girls were laughing and continuing to chatter as I stepped out when I was done, only to find Ms. Peters waiting for me. "Principal McArthur wants you in his office," she said, giving me a suspicious look. My heart almost stopped.

I nodded and picked up my things, not bothering to change back into my normal clothes, and headed down yet another hallway. Turning the corner, the door to the main office came into focus a lot more quickly than I would've hoped. I hesitated slightly, wondering if I could make a run for it. My palms began to sweat, leaving my fingers clammy and shaking. Mr. McArthur was most likely going to yell at me. This wasn't the first time I've skipped most of my classes. Giving up on the running idea, I opened the door sulkily awaiting my punishment.

The office was a bright and perky place, plants clustered in every corner. Photos of smiling students were strung up on the walls, along with the school logo. The receptionist at the desk glanced up at me with an 'I don't care' look plastered on her face. She motioned over to a chair against the wall, across from Mr. M's office door. She then went back to looking at her computer screen. I trudged over to the cushioned seat and sat down with a huff. I might not have looked like it at that specific moment, but I was downright terrified. My hands began to tremble even more. What would he say? Would I be suspended? Expelled? I was so caught up in my worries that I didn't even hear Mr. McArthur's door open until voices floated out.

"We are very glad to have you attending Forks High Mr. Cullen." Mr. McArthur said.

"Yeah, sure," a melodic, yet slightly harsh voice mumbled. His words dripped with sarcasm.

"Edward." A gentle, yet hard-edged voice sighed. The soft sound of footsteps walking closer towards me caused me to slowly lift my head, only to find a set of the most beautiful emerald green eyes staring back. The boy looked to be about my age, well-built and fit with tousled bronze hair that shined even in the dull lighting of the building. It looked as though he had been running his hands through it all day. The slick, black leather jacket he was wearing made the angles of his face seem more sinister than kind. That didn't matter though. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

The principle cleared his throat. "Isabella." I cringed at my original name. "It's your turn." He said kindly.

"Okay," I replied, though it came out more like a question than a confident answer.

"It was very nice to meet you Mr. McArthur. I'm sure Edward is very enthused about attending this school. But unfortunately we must get going. Edward?" the man next to the boy said. He was average sized, maybe in his late 30's, but he was stunning like Edward. His blond hair was slicked back in a professional way, causing his mysterious blue eyes to pop.

Edward looked at the man and nodded once, both moving towards the exit doors. I looked back at the principal, who again gestured into the tiny room. As I gathered my things, my mind was still hanging on to the image of that boy. I didn't care about my punishment anymore, all I could think of was him. Edward.

**Please comment and or message me with thoughts/ things to improve on in my writing. Thank you so much for taking time out of your lives to read my story. I gladly appreciate it. I am also adding a playlist, if you wanted to listen to the music I listened to while writing this story.**

**My Playlist- 1) **_**Fix You**_** by Coldplay**

**2) **_**Heartbeat **_**by The Fray**

**3) **_**Free Fallin' (Live)**_** by John Mayer**

**4) **_**Nothing Left To Lose**_** by Mat Kearney**

**5) **_**Your Love Is A Song**_** by Switchfoot**

**6) **_**Superman (It's Not Easy)**_** by Fight for Fighting**


	3. Ch 2  Broken Hearts

**I do not own these characters. They belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The plot and characters personalities were made up by me personally.**

I am so sorry for the long wait. I have had the busiest week of the entire year and I was sick the next two, though I know that is no excuse not to be writing. I apologize, and I will work harder on putting out more chapters soon! With that, please enjoy. Happy Reading!

_**~A Special Shout-Out: This goes out to my best friend and my imagination sparker, Meredith a.k.a. Deirksiegirl . Thank you so much for just being there. It means more than you'll ever know. ~**_

If you're looking for a shout-out for yourself, all you have to do is post an amazing comment!

Also, I am looking for some more ideas. I'm having a little trouble coming up with some good ones, so your input would be greatly appreciated. Thank you!

**Chapter 2 – Broken Hearts: Edwards POV**

Trees flashed by, blurring together as the car sped down the little highway. Silence hung heavily in the already thickened atmosphere of Carlisle's car. I wished he would fucking say something already. His eerie calmness was making me even more edgy, I cleared my throat nervously, taking my eyes away from the passenger window and leaned back into the cars shiny black leather seats. When he didn't reply, I had a sinking feeling something was really bugging him, and that something was probably me.

"Would you fucking say something already, before I go insane?" I nearly shouted, my voice cutting through the silence as I ran my fingers through my already disheveled hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, narrowing his eyes. Now he was pissed.

"Watch your mouth, Edward," He sighed loudly. "That is one of the whole reasons why you were expelled from your last high school. It took more than you could barely comprehend for me to actually get you into this school and you will not be screwing up this chance again, got it?" Anger flashed through his words as he glared at the road ahead. I huffed dramatically and rolled my eyes. School was fucking school. What did he expect from me? A good student?

"_Yeah, like that's going to happen," _I thought to myself, a smirk playing at the corner of my mouth.

"I mean it, boy." Carlisle growled under his breath. I turned to grin wickedly at my uncle, flash backs of my expulsion reeling inside my head.

I had mouthed off to many adults in my high school years, some of them being pretty brutal, but nothing compared to last year's standoff. Let's just say, coming to school with a horrible hangover is a terrible mistake for anyone. My eyes were so bloodshot, I had to wear some sunglasses the entire day. It was first hour, and it sounded like everyone was screaming into my fucking ear. I sat there seething in silence when the teacher had the nerve to call me out. I hadn't even done anything, and that was what sent me over that very thin edge. I got up and walked towards the front of the room, shaking my finger in her face and yelling so many profanities, I can't even bring myself to repeat them. The class-room was silent for a rare moment, but could you blame them? I do actually regret saying all of those things, but the look on her face was absolutely priceless. After I had finished ranting, I picked up my stuff and headed straight for the principal's office without her having to say a word. I sat in the overly comfortable chairs for what seemed like hours until Carlisle was called in as well. He didn't look happy, though I wasn't expecting him to. He never even glanced at me as he went into the other office and sat down to talk with Mr. Amenson about my punishment. Moments later, I learned that I would be expelled from the school, effective immediately. Carlisle didn't argue, figuring it could've been worse. I on the other hand was over-joyed at the thought of no more high-school. A few days later, completely enjoying my time off, Carlisle called me into his office. He had sat in silence behind his slick black desk, eyeing me. I remember I had clenched onto that small blue arm chair, that it left a permanent impression. He had that sort of twinkle in his eyes that said he knew something I didn't. I fucking hated secrets. Soon he spoke up. " I have some news for you," he said, his mouth turning up into a snickering smile. "I found a school, gracious enough to take you in." His smile grew wider at the thought as mine dropped instantly.

"What?" I sputtered in complete shock. I thought I was done with fucking school. "What the fuck do you mean you 'found a school' for me?" I stood up, my hands clenched at my sides.

"I mean exactly what I said," he leaned back into his chair and clasped his hands on his lap. I could tell he was enjoying this. Without saying another word, I turned and stomped out, making sure to slam the door harder than normal. As I huffed down the hallway, I could've sworn he was laughing.

"I spent much too long trying to even find the damn school. You are going to behave yourself, or there will be horrible consequences." I puffed out a small sigh at his words, coming back out of my memories. " Speaking of consequences, give me your keys." He led out his hand, his fingers jabbing into my chest. I stared at him incredulously.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" My mouth almost dropped off from the shock. He couldn't take away my goddamn car. It was mine!

"Edward." He said sharply, not taking his eyes off the road. I groaned loudly, reaching into my jeans pocket to dig out the keys to my favorite silver mustang. A twinge of sadness tugged at my heart looking at the gleaming key chain. My car was my life, and he was taking it away.

"Fine. Take them. Anything else you'd like to take, since you've already taken my soul." I growled under my breath. I threw the keys at him, hitting his shoulder with a satisfying thud. He sighed, reaching down slightly to gingerly pick them up off the cars carpeted flooring. He carefully slid them into his shirt pocket.

"Don't be so dramatic. Maybe you'll learn, so this won't happen again," he said evenly.

"Whatever." I crossed my arms over my chest, seething with pent up rage. I knew I was acting like a fucking child, but I didn't give a shit at that point. All I wanted was my car. We rode the rest of the way in intense silence, as we both glared at the road ahead. Finally we pulled into the long paved driv-way. Carlisle stopped the car a few feet away from the large white garage doors, grabbing the shoulder of my jacket before I could get out. For the first time in a while, his face had aged passed his real age. His wrinkles were more prominent than before, and his eyes looked extremely tired.

"Why can't you just listen and actually behave for once? Sometimes I wish your father was still here, or at least be like him. Maybe he could drill some sense into that thick skull of yours." I stopped fidgeting, feeling as though I was punched. The wind rushed out of my lungs as my father's name slipped past his lips. It took a few moments for me to regroup myself, but I quickly ripped my arm out of his grip, opened the car door and stepped out. Before shutting the door, I turned towards him icily.

"You know, I would give my fucking life just to have him back. You on the other hand, will never be my father, so get the fuck over it," I hissed and slammed the door before he could say anything in response. I stormed up the stairs of the porch and almost sprinted towards Alice's room. She was the only one who seemed to understand me; the only one who really gave a shit about me, and looked past my flaws. I felt like an asshole barging into her room, knowing there was a chance she could be asleep, but I couldn't have cared less if she was awake or not.

She was though. I roughly opened the door, the knob hitting the wall behind it with a loud bang. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell I scared her pretty bad, but she instantly relaxed being so used to my sudden outbursts. She was sitting in her bed with the blue and purple flower covered bedspread around her legs, and a book in her small hands. The machines beside on her dresser beeped warnings until going back to their normal hum once her heart rate was slowed. I paced across her room, ranting loudly with my fists clenched tightly at my sides so I wouldn't be tempted to break any of her things. Alice sat quietly waiting patiently as my temper exploded. She had seen it all before and knew it was better to wait than try and calm me down.

After a while, my anger subsided enough for me to sit on the edge of her bed. I put my head in my hands, dragging my fingers through my unkempt hair. "He's trying to be like Dad again," I mumbled through my teeth as her hand rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

"He's only trying to do what's best for you, Edward," she sighed, squeezing my arm gently. I wanted to shrug her off at that comment, but contained myself enough not to be rude towards her. I would've felt like a dick if I made her cry since I was the one who came to her in the first place.

"Yeah, well, he could be helping out a lot more if he would cut the 'father' acting crap out. I lost mine already, I don't need another." The bed quivered slightly as she flinched at the harsh words, but I didn't care. It was true. She huffed softly, and I turned my head towards her. She was scowling at me. I punched her arm playfully and smiled a little, trying to cheer her back up. Her black spiky wig was extra messy from sleeping, making her striking blue eyes stand out against her translucent skin. IV's hung limply from her arms, hooking up to multiple machines around her bed, making her look more fragile than ever before. I reached over and cuffed her chin lightly. "How're you feeling, squirt? I heard from Carlisle that the cancer cells aren't spreading as fast as they used to." She shrugged, her shoulders drooping out of exhaustion. I frowned, suddenly noticing the piercing black circles under her child like eyes. "Not sleeping well, then?"

"Nausea. Carlisle said it was only normal, but the medication makes me so sick sometimes, I can't even bare to fall asleep," she murmured quietly, staring down at her tiny fingers twined with the bed spread. She hated to talk about her sickness, thinking it made her look weak. She wasn't though, not to me. Alice was fighting fucking cancer for Christ's sake. I couldn't even go through that shit without wanting to kill myself. She cleared her throat. "So, about your new school. Do you think you'll like it?" There was a hint of curiosity that leaked into her voice. Guilt flooded my chest. Alice hadn't been able to attend school since she was diagnosed, she had been too sick to get out of bed. I could tell she missed it, and all of her friends, though all of those mother fuckers never bothered to pay her a visit now.

"I don't really know, Alice. Too early to tell." My thoughts drifted back to the tiny little office and the strange girl waiting there. Her long brown hair had been frizzy and messy, as if she had just gotten up, framing her pale white face. Acne covered her jaw and forehead, drifting half way down her neck, and she sat in her seat, ridged with terror. I wouldn't have given her a second glance, until she looked up at me. I couldn't hardly breathe at the sight. Her eyes were like liquid pools of melted chocolate, rich and deep. They seemed as though you could peer into her soul. At that moment, I didn't see all of those scars and flaws, I saw the girl behind them, and I've never felt like that before. It was strange, yet so comforting. I couldn't bear to tear my eyes away from her. I could hear the principal call her into his office, though his voice was muddled and dull, except for her name. It sent shivers rolling down my spine. Isabella.

"Well, I have a feeling you are going to like it. Or at least better than all those other schools." Her voice brought me out of my thoughts. I shook my head, trying to think clearly again.

"Maybe," I grumbled. We talked for hours, rambling about nothing just to pass the time. Alice loved company, and I could tell she appreciated me coming to talk to her. Hell, I was just glad she was there to listen. She always seemed to know just what I needed, better than anyone else. I looked over at the clock a short while later, my grin falling slightly. 6:45. Dinner would be on the table soon, meaning I would have to face Carlisle again. A flash of anger swept over me from earlier, but I forced it to leave. I would fucking cooperate this time, for my car and for Alice. I got up slowly, stretching out my back, telling her I would be up shortly. She nodded and grabbed her book again, trying to focus. I knew she hated not being able to eat with us all. I wanted to tell her she wasn't missing anything at all. Meals were usually silent, only the clang of forks against plates and the chewing of mouths could be heard. It was usually awkward and long, as all three of us would stare at our meals, or occasionally the wall. I would've moved out by now if it wasn't for Alice. She made me swear not to leave her. She was the only thing that held this family together anymore, if it's even considered a family at all.

After closing her door softly, I walked down the big white staircase taking my time, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. Once my feet touched the wooden paneling of the main floor, I glanced over at the red walls of the brightly lit dining room. Emmett sat in his usual chair, a blank expression plastered to his face as he looked out of the small window next to him. I sighed heavily, moving towards my own chari. He didn't look up, not bothering to acknowledge that I even existed anymore. Emmett hated me, all the way down to my core. He blamed me for my parent's deaths, but then again, I did too. My mother, Esme, was a beautiful woman, her heart shaped face was framed by flowing honey brown hair and her eyes made you want to melt. She spoiled me rotten, calling me her little musician. She loved my dad, even when he had his anger flare. He was more like me than I had realized, except for his looks. He was just as striking as my mother, his features angular and intense. Jet black hair covered his head, messy like mine. He was kind and gentle, though could strike fear in anyone he wanted. But he loved my mother more than air itself, teaching me something very valuable about love.

It had been a rainy night, thunder shaking the blackened skies. It was their 20th anniversary and they had made arrangements to go out and eat, while I drove myself over to a friend's house. I had just recently turned 16, and I was barely eligible to drive. Later that night, my phone rang loud and shrill. It was my parents, asking if I could please come to drive them home, for they had had a little too much to drink and wanted to be safe than sorry. I was in the middle of my Modern Warfare game, with no clear intention of leaving. I told them to "go and ask Emmett," and I snapped the phone shut. I was much too busy, it seemed. I never got to say that I loved them, or even a simple fucking goodbye, and that's something I will always regret for as long as I live, because they never came home that night. Emmett and I stayed up for hours, the hands of the clock moving quickly into the small early morning hours. Just when we thought we would go insane from waiting, the doorbell rang. It was an officer of the city's police department. I never could remember his name, though I know he told us. He said there had been an accident, and there were no survivors. Sadness was packed into his words. He told us the car had been completely totaled; that they would contact some relatives as soon as they could. They kept telling us how sorry they were, so sorry. My brain was so hazy from the lack of sleep, I didn't understand what they were telling us all of this for. I didn't think it had anything to do with us. Emmett stood beside me, in the same state of haze, brave enough to ask the officers what they meant by these things. One of the patrolmen shook his head gravely and uttered the words that would send my life into a sudden downfall. "Your parents are dead." His words were thick, like my head was under water. My mind went blank as Emmett's shattering screams pierced the background. Carlisle came soon enough, taking us in quickly. I was still in shock, not believing what I was being told. Their funerals were held three days later in the Clementon Park cemetery. I watched as both their caskets were lowered into the blackened soil. Somehow, all of the emotions and heartache caught up to me in that very moment, settling into a permanent lump in my throat. Unshed tears coursed down my cheeks and onto their graves. I couldn't let them go. They were my life, my parents, my family, my all. I loved them. Strange noises filtered into my ears, past all of my ragged thoughts. It sounded like an animal, dying from agony and heart break. Carlisle awkwardly slung his arm around my shoulder out of pity. It took me a few moments to realize those sorrowful noises were in fact coming from me. I didn't try and stop them though. I just cried. I continued to cry even when everyone had left, and when the sun slid behind the trees. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore, the sadness turning into a numb sensation, burning behind my rib cage.

Months passed us by and the numbness started to disappear as well, leaving behind anger and pain in its tracks. I started to drink, smoke, and was just plain reckless at times. I didn't want to live my life if they couldn't live theirs. Suicide was a constant thought that came to mind, though I was never brave enough to attempt the deed I always wished I had been.

The clanging of plates against the wooden dining room table brought me back to the present, as Carlisle set down a plate full of lasagna. My mood drifted back into that sour state it had been earlier. The room's walls felt as though they were closing in while Carlisle pulled out his chair to sit down. All I wanted to do was run back upstairs, but I knew I couldn't.

Carlisle said a small prayer of thanks and blessed the meal. As always, dinner went by slowly and silently, followed by the cleaning of our empty dishes and then returning back to our rooms for the night. It was the same routine for every night, nothing ever changed. Before Carlisle could put away the leftovers, I heaped a plate full of food to bring up to Alice. I knew she wouldn't even eat half of it, but it always brought a smile to her face when we joked around as though she wasn't really sick at all. After leaving her to eat in privacy, I wandered down the long and lonely hallways of the house, too wired to even think about sleeping. Picture frames were tacked onto the walls, displaying many family memories. All of mom and dad's photos had been previously taken down, so there wouldn't be any cruel reminders. I came to a halt at one of the pictures near the end of the hall. The photo was old and worn, bent several times from being folded to fit into pockets. It was of me and Emmett, barely 8 at the time. He had his scrawny little arm swung over my shoulder, both of us grinning widely. Our feet were bare and covered in dirt from scuffling around so much. I ran my fingers over the glass that protected the precious memory, and for a second, I wished I were there again. No cares or worries in this god forsaken world, when Emmett was still my best friend, when Alice wasn't sick, and when I still had a mother and a father.

I trudged back down the carpeted hall towards my own room after a few more minutes of dwelling on the past. I opened my door, walking in and flopped back onto my navy blue bed spread. The black walls made my room seem small, the posters making it even more cluttered than it was originally. I stared at the white ceiling, pondering if I should even try and sleep. I let my thoughts wander as I reached over and hit the on button of my stereo, shutting my weary eyes. My mind drifted in and out of past and present, jumping from one image to the next. Suddenly the face of a frazzled looking girl appeared behind my eye lids. Her eyes bore into mine, making my heart melt on contact. My sadness and pain of old memories started to fade as I continued to think of her wondering who she really was. I knew right then, that I was going to find out. I would make sure of it. I could feel a small smile grace my lips as I thought about the upcoming day when I would get to see her again, sending me into the best night's sleep I had had in ages.


End file.
